


It Felt Good to be Alive

by rivlee



Series: All the Difference [7]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duro is not exactly what Nasir expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Felt Good to be Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steorie/gifts).



> Steorie drew [this](http://steorie.tumblr.com/post/68377869646/for-shannon-hq-version) gorgeous piece of artwork for me and I just had to write a fic in response. 
> 
> Title is from The Gaslight Anthem's _Drive_.

Duro’s eyes shone bright even in the lowlight of the oil lamp on their table. The tavern was one full of sailors and pirates (suggested by Gannicus and Castus both), and the wine was hardly above vinegar, but the company made it taste like ambrosia on their tongues. Nasir had never seen Agron so content; there was a peace about him even as he rested one arm across Nasir’s shoulders and wrapped the fingers of his other hand around Duro’s wrist.

Duro was not at all what Nasir expected. He thought to find a smaller man much like Agron. Instead he found the imp before him; hair and eyes both shades darker than his brother, his smile wider and more cunning, with golden hoops through his left earlobe and nostril. A band of faded red fabric held back the matted braids of his hair and marked him as an outsider of Rome and its fashions.

He was unapologetically barbarian. The first time he reunited with Agron, after the long embrace and a sharp punch, he laughed loud and pointed at his brother’s short hair, mocking him for taking on the form of their enemy. Agron had explained the benefits of concealment, but Duro had shot them down each time Nasir and Chadara had offered to cut his hair. Duro could never pass for a Roman, even if his grasp of Latin’s subtleties was better than his brother, and he claimed a fierce desire to never try. 

Diona’s lessons were clear in the ease with which Duro spoke to the rebels, trailing after Diona, Mira, and Naevia as they used him to carry messages and organize meetings, all with a laughing voice that covered any threat Duro would make. Nasir found during that first week that Duro was much like him—able to pick up bits of language more quickly than others. He’d already heard Duro yell things at Auctus in Greek, at Castus in Aramaic, and knew the worst of insults to use against the Gauls in their own tongue. Agron always looked to Duro first to translate, an obvious tell of how the brothers worked when fighting in the lands to the north. 

Nasir liked Duro from the start, and knew he would even if he hadn’t met Agron first. Duro was a whirlwind who arrived at their villa on the heels of a rebellion with a handful of warrior kin and Diona. He’d made friends with both Spartacus and Crixus, being one of the few considered close and loyal to both men. He had joined the rebellion for three reasons: to find his brother, to find Naevia, and to see others to freedom. Unlike Agron he did not care if freedom came with a flight to the south towards Oenomaus’ homeland, or the north and east, closer to Duro and Agron’s home. There was an ease to him, covered in the mask of a fool, where Agron had always been mystery and fury all combined to make one volatile man. Both brothers protected what was closest to them, but where Agron had a presence that warned people off, Duro’s invited them to sit beside him and tell all their secrets. 

Nasir was brought back to the present as the tavern filled with laughter and Duro waved off the most recent pirate eager to buy the gold in his ear.

“I can give you coin,” the pirate promised.

“I have the most important thing at my side already,” Duro said, turning from the pirate and ending any further conversation. He swung his arm around Agron’s neck and patted his chest hard enough to make Nasir flinch in sympathy.

Agron ducked his head and laughed low, leaning into his brother even as he kept an arm around Nasir. They were a balanced scale for Agron; two distinct parts that made one man whole again. 

Nasir only had vague memories of his brother, and a close bond with Chadara borne out of similar circumstances and trials. He never understood _family_ and _bond_ in the way he now saw between the two brothers. Even after Agron had opened up to Nasir, even after they had both admitted what they felt was worth any risk or consequence, he’d never imagined seeing Agron ever so happy. The lingering sadness that pulled at the corners of his lips, the darkness and madness that always seemed just barely tethered in his eyes, had gone, leaving just the dissipating traces of a life recent in many hardships. 

The door to the tavern swung open and Saxa’s golden head peered inside. She made a low yipping sound in Duro’s direction. Duro jumped up in response and rolled his eyes at Saxa’s barking laugh.

“I’m being called to eat,” Duro said. “Diona will be cross if I make us late.” He stood, bowing his head once to press a kiss on top of Agron’s head. “Enjoy the night, brother.”

“And you,” Agron said with one last hold of Duro’s hand. 

Nasir met Duro’s approving nod with one of his own before Duro slipped through the crowd and fell into step behind Saxa.

“Do you not wish to join them?” Nasir asked once the door shut.

Agron shrugged. “Those he traveled with have their own customs and traditions. I would not presume they extend to me yet. I still have to prove myself to them, I suppose. It is good he found such loyal people.” He leaned in closer to Nasir and brushed his fingers across the sensitive skin of Nasir’s wrists. “Besides, my brother knows where I prefer to spend my quiet moments. Peace and privacy is a rare thing for us, surrounded as we are.”

“It is,” Nasir agreed. “Though I find it odd you think _I_ should not wait to offer my approval of Duro.”

“You know all my secrets,” Agron said. “I have told you more of Duro than I have ever spoken to another. To love me is to love him. How could you not trust him? Those three who found him in the woods back in the Germania stand as their own family, not Duro’s confidant. They are friends, brothers and sisters in arms fighting for a common purpose with trust at each other’s back. Those three, Diona, Lugo, and Saxa, knew each other first though. Duro was an outsider to them and had to earn his place. We will have to do the same.”

“ _We_?” Nasir asked.

Agron’s fingers drifted to Nasir’s hair, pushing it behind his ear as he softly said, “Where you go, I go.”

“A sentiment shared,” Nasir agreed. He placed his cup on the table and let his thumb run across Agron’s bottom lip. “It is time we seek closer quarters.”

He slipped out of Agron’s hold and made for the door, trusting Agron to be at his back as always, and took in a deep breath of the cool night air. It was tinged with salt from the sea and tasted different from the dusty breeze of the villa. Nasir hadn’t even cleared the door before Agron’s long cloak was around his shoulders with Agron’s arm slung around his waist. 

Their lives had changed much in the past year, and all for the better. It felt lifetimes had passed since Nasir first saw Agron on the auction block in Neapolis. They had lived with their lives under constant threat in the villa, and even if they still did so now, their current life felt like a gift. It truly was an impossible thing to dream-up, a Syrian boy stolen to Rome and raised as a slave to meet a barbarian from the lands east of the Rhine, raised in freedom to fight. To be brought together under the guiding hands of a gladiator born in Greece, the daughter of a Greek slave and a wealthy Roman, and a young man born in Alexandria and raised in a ludus seemed improbable. To find themselves involved in a rebellion started by a Thracian, aided by a Gaul, and pulling from all corners of Rome’s reach and the better part of the world. It should not be a possible life, yet it was theirs. 

The ropes holding the ships in place groaned as they walked towards the dock, carefully picking their way between the the rugged stones and sand of the pathway. They had a mission to complete come the morning. A whole shipment of grain to collect, purchased from a Roman merchant familiar to Castus, offered with a deep discount out of respect and for the price of a scroll Auctus had apparently smuggled out of Alexandria years ago. The night was still theirs though, and Nasir tucked himself closer to Agron’s side as they walked to the inn housing the rest of their crew.


End file.
